Your eyes
by Writer's Ambition to Write
Summary: "She has your eyes, Peeta, a breath taking blue."


Your eyes.

"_She has your eyes, Peeta, a breath taking blue."_

**Hello! My first Hunger Games Fanfic! I have another account, but I wanted a change Please enjoy this story, and thanks for reading!**

I lie on my back in bed. The cool breeze blows through the open window, and I contemplate about moving. When I lie this way, it is most comfortable; I don't move around at night as much. But nothing, nothing , stops the nightmares. They come and go every night. I wake up, thrashing about, and no one but Peeta can calm me. Yet he is just as troubled as me. Sometimes, I slip out of bed in the morning, just for a small walk, as I am no longer able to hunt.

Peeta insisted I must not do anything too strenuous during this time. He doesn't want anything to happen to us. Us. I absentmindedly rub my stomach, and feel the child within. When it first began to move, I was terrified. I wouldn't move. Apparently, I was in a daze for days. My rock through this has been Peeta; seeing as I have no one else living in district 12 to come and help me. I speak to my mother everyday on the phone; something that probably wouldn't happen unless certain events hadn't happened. She would be in district 12 and home and with Prim- I can't even try and think about her without tearing up. So long ago, yet not. I will never forget her last moments, her blonde hair, blue eyes; Peeta has captured an image, a painting, so life like, so beautiful, that I will never forget her. There are so many others that suffered the fate of death during the Rebellion. Annie and Finnick's son will never know his father. Delly won't get to see her parents. Peeta won't see his brothers and mother and father.

"Need help?" A voice, Peeta's voice, draws me out of my thoughts. He's leaning over me, gently stroking my hand.

"No," I reply, and make a futile attempt at getting off the bed.

"Too stubborn," I hear him say, and he pulls me up as carefully as he can. His dazzling blue eyes are sparkling; his mouth curved into a smile, as he gives me a plate of cheese buns. I eat, still in thought, and he carries on smiling, and then begins to talk to our child.

"You're going to be a good hunter and a baker," he says, and I shake my head.

"If he takes after me, he won't be too great in the kitchen," I tell him, shaking my head and smiling.

"Well _she_ will have to have some practice from me, won't she?" Peeta is eye level with me now, his eyes sparkling with humour. He gives me a kiss; it makes me feel warm, and oh so happy. I want to tell him not to stop, but something makes me think twice. Just a slight, nagging pain makes me want to stay where I am.

"Are you ok?" Those blue eyes that were so happy a moment ago are now filled with terror, much like when we were in the arena.

"I'm fine, Peeta. Honest. Just a slight pain, honest," I reassure him, and I can see him beginning to tense up. He's having an attack. With great difficulty, I make my way off the bed, and walk slowly out the room.

"MUTT!" He shouts as I get close to the door, and throws the plate that had held the cheese buns just a few minutes before. The pieces shatter, and I can make them out on the cream carpet, sticking up. Peeta begins to stop his rant, and sits in the green armchair by the window. He's beginning to come back to normal. The blue eyes are brimming with tears, and, although Dr. Aurelius told me to leave Peeta a few minutes after an attack, I feel so guilty that I wipe away a few tears. His hands give a feeble slap; and he's shaking.

"You're a mutt, real or not real?"

"Not real, Peeta. I'm human," I say, softly.

"You love me, real or not real?"

"Real. I love you." He finally stops quivering, and I give him a hug. He returns it, and more tears spill from his eyes onto my night clothes.

"I'm sorry, Katniss," He whimpers, "I'm so sorry."

"Shush," I tell him, "It's ok. It's over now." He relaxes more, and takes my hand.

"I never want to hurt you," Peeta says, and I smile gently.

"You never will." He seems to lighten up, but still looks unsure.

"I might have an attack and hurt the baby," He whispers, his voice dejected.

"You won't," I say firmly.

"You shouldn't take chances with me, Katniss. You don't know what could happen."

"I know you love us. And that's enough for me, Peeta." He kisses me, and walks to our awaited baby's door. He twists the knob carefully, and switches the glowing light on. I haven't been in yet; Peeta said it wasn't done yet. But he's waving his arm, indicating for me to come closer.

Sunset. The baby's room is sunset. A beautiful colour, and I can't help but gasp at the way it ripples around the room. He has his arms around my waist, and whispers in my ear, "What do you think?" I desperately want to cry at the amount of effort he has put in.

"It's perfect," I whisper, "Absolutely perfect." My eyes skim the furniture, arranged so neatly, so contrasting in colour; the white wood against the pale orange walls giving off the illusion of a perfect summer evening.

It's about ten in the morning when Peeta leaves for the bakery. I am sat, on the sofa, feeling uncomfortable, and huge. Today, something feels off when I move. My stomach seems to get harder and softer, and I just want to walk, but, if I do, my ankles feel swollen. Someone knocks on the door, and I can feel myself getting restless. It's Haymitch; but he's carrying a bottle of some sort of spirit.

"Hi, sweetheart," he says, before stepping into the house.

"How's the geese?" I ask through gritted teeth. Haymitch smells worse than normal. Underneath the body odour, and the alcohol, is the smell of geese poo. With my nose the way it is now, what with being pregnant, it is taking everything in me to not throw up all over him.

"They're geese." He laughs, as if it is the funniest joke he has ever heard. I look at him, growing more impatient, and he gives me a hug. Something I would never expect from Haymitch. "You're huge," He comments, looking me up and down, then back up to my face. His eyes are crossed; he looks more unstable than normal.

"You're drunk," I say, stating the obvious.

"You're sober," He shoots back.

"You can't drink when you're pregnant," I snap, and he laughs.

"Just joking, sweetheart. Chill. I came by to check on you. Peeta told me too."

"I don't need babysitting."  
"I'm not babysitting you," Haymitch says, taking a large gulp of the spirit from the hip flask, and then from the bottle. My nose wrinkles in disgust. "I'll be back by about four," He finishes, and shuts the door behind him. What was the point of that visit? I'm left irritable and confused to why I need looking after.

By midday, I'm restless and more uncomfortable. I also want to be outside. I feel trapped in the house. So I slip on my hunting boots, an almost impossible task. My hair is already braided down my back, and I put on my father's old hunting jacket. It is cool on me; I feel unexplainably hot. I quietly shut my door, and look through Haymitch's window. He's passed out, on the floor, the bottle he had been holding earlier broken and the liquid on the floor. He sits up, and I dart as quickly as I can past his house, and out of Victor's Village.

In case I'm spotted by one of Peeta's staff, I go along the outskirts instead. The air is cool and refreshing, and just what I need. I can see most of the district from here; the grass is greener and looks healthier than it has in years. I walk slowly down the back of the bakery, through town until I reach the Meadow. I haven't been here for months, and all I want to do is leap over the fence and hunt, although my body will definitely protest. I sit on the grass, the mass grave of the people of the district, and ponder my options. If I stay, Haymitch will come to mine and tell Peeta. If I go home, I'll feel trapped. So I decide on half and half. It feels good to be out in the open, yet I'm worried in case Peeta finds out. A sudden pain comes to the surface and lingers, and I am left out of breath when it is gone. I place my hand on my stomach, trying to calm the child down. I shift uncomfortably, for a few minutes until a pain hits me yet again. I must have had too many cheese buns. Suddenly, I cry out, and I don't notice the shadowed figure sneak from under the fence. Gale.

"Catnip?" He asks, his voice wavering and unsteady. He seems to be happy to see me, until another burst of pain hits me. It is at that moment I register fully what is going on.

"Get Peeta!" I burst out, struggling to get off the ground, similar to getting out of bed this morning. Gale pulls me up, looking worried, and gently pulls me along. I'm in too much pain to ask him why he is back after so long. He takes me straight to the hospital. He uses the hospital phone to get in touch with Peeta. I'm lying on a hospital bed, and the pains are getting stronger. Peeta isn't here yet.

"Why are you back?" I ask Gale, as I manage to get my breath back.

"I wanted to see you, Katniss," He says, his eyes full of remorse, "I wanted to make sure you were happy."

"I am," I reply, trying to keep my voice from being too understanding.

"Mum wanted me to come as well," Gale continues, "To see my family. And I wanted too. It's been far too long since I've been here. I'm happy for you, Katniss." He gives my hand a friendly squeeze, and tells me he has to visit his home, how he'll be back tomorrow. I'm left alone for a few minutes as the door shuts, and Peeta walks in, out of breath.

"Are you ok?" He asks, kissing my sweaty forehead.

"I think so," I say, wincing when another pain comes.

"Breathe, breathe, breathe," He says, more to himself. He takes deep, big breaths.

Time has passed since Peeta arrived, and I'm not sure how long. Hours, days, months? That's what it feels like. I'm in agony now, and I want to be home. My mind is drifting away, to another world, where everyone is alive and happy. The door is slightly open. I hear two doctors speaking, in loud, worried voices,

"Its been over 48 hours. Nothing is happening. She needs the surgery."

"Just wait a little longer," The other says, "Nature will take it's course."

I watch the clock until my eyes are fuzzy. I was able to sleep a while, presumably yesterday. Peeta tells me Gale visited while I was asleep. He is snoring in the little orange chair, exhausted. He had been so late yesterday because there was a shortage of staff, and he couldn't get away when he wanted too.

All of a sudden, my back arches up, and I give a scream which I know will be blood curdling. I'm forward, my back in the air. Peeta wakes up, startled. Doctors and nurses rush in. All of the chaos is sending me into a panic. I scream when someone puts a hand on my shoulder.

"Try to push, Katniss," A doctor says reassuringly. I focus on the sterile white floor. After half an hour, I hear more hushed, scared tones.

"It's been too long, Mrs Mellark. We will have to operate to take the baby out."

I imagine people clawing at my stomach, and get paranoid. I scream, and I can feel myself going insane, zoning out from the pain. I can hear Peeta's voice, his hand clutching mine getting stiff. It almost brings me back to my senses. But my mind refuses to react. I know he is having an attack, but I feel too preoccupied in my other world. Playing with Prim, hunting with Gale, baking with Peeta; and the last thing I hear before I head into darkness is my name.

When I wake up, the world is cloudy and I am confused as to where I am. There is pain in my stomach, and there is someone stroking my hair. Three people, men and a woman, are having a hushed conversation.

"What if she doesn't wake up? What if I'm left with a baby?"

"She'll be fine, Peeta. It's Katniss. She's a survivor."

"Catnip wouldn't leave you, Peeta."

Peeta, Gale and my Mother. I want to wake up. But I still feel stuck in my own little world. Where is the key? If I find it, I can leave. Even though this place has everyone I love. The fuzziness is slowly leaving, and I blink and clear my throat.

"Peeta." My voice is croaky, and my hands reach out for Peeta's face. He's crying. So is my mother. And Gale looks extremely pleased to see me.

"Oh, Katniss," Peeta says, "You're back. I thought I lost you."

"Why?"

"You nearly died," My mother whispers quietly, "They thought you were gone, and then you've proved them wrong again."

"Don't leave again, Catnip."

"You did," I retort, and he winces. I try and sit up, but fail due to the pain.

"Maybe you should go," Peeta suggests, "For now. Katniss is getting stressed." I see Gale give a vague nod, and the door slams behind him. A noise emits from the little plastic cot at the end of the bed. Peeta walks over and retrieves a wailing, pink, baby.

"She hasn't opened her eyes yet," Peeta tells me, and my mother nods. She walks to the door, muttering about getting Haymitch to come and visit again now that I was awake.

The blanket is drawn tightly around the baby, and the small, rose bud lips are parted. Slowly, almost warily, she opens her eyes to get a good look at her surroundings. They are unmistakable in colour.

I gasp. "She has your eyes, Peeta, a break taking blue." He looks so proud, kissing her forehead and passing her to me.

"She has you're hair, Katniss." And sure enough, when he removes the blanket she has thick, black hair. "She's beautiful," He whispers.

"Perfect," I answer back.

Haymitch and my mother come back a few hours later. I dose off a few times when there are visitors without realising. Unbelievably, Haymitch has a new friend. Our daughter. He didn't want to let her go. He's going to be a grandfather; he even promised to sober up (But Peeta and I aren't sure he meant that.) Gale visited one last time before returning to district two. He's taking Hazelle and Posy for a little holiday; his brothers didn't want to go.

We name her Adena. Naming her after someone seems wrong; she is our fresh start. Her name means from fire and flame, and that is definitely what happened. Looking at our beautiful daughter, with her breath taking blue eyes, I know I will never forget my family or love again.

**Hope you enjoyed, I spent hours on this! Please review Also, I was thinking about writing a second chapter from Peeta's point of view on the birth of their son. Let me know in a review x **


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